


Distracted by Heroics

by cherrymilk



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed III, Ficlet Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrymilk/pseuds/cherrymilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Homestead ficlets with some (suggested!) Connor/Ellen. 100% fluff. We all know Connor would be an adorable father figure, etc etc</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Seffora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seffora/gifts).



> I do not own Assassin's Creed, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned in these ficlets. Also, Maria's been aged down because Connor interacting with tiny humans is possibly the cutest thing ever.

Connor eyed the tomahawk that had been slammed into the wooden column outside of Achilles’s estate years ago. It had symbolized the beginnings of a war. As he reached out to pull the weapon away, he hesitated. Were things truly ended? Had he done all that he could? He turned to look out over the Homestead, taking comfort in the trees that rustled slightly in the wind and in the people that strolled by and waved happily. He turned back toward the tomahawk and pulled it out, dropping it onto the porch and turning away.

He enjoyed the peace for a few days, only to become restless and irritated. He traveled aimlessly between New York, Boston and the Homestead only to find that the people in New York were boasting of freedom while simultaneously selling slaves at the docks. Only to find that Boston had not improved, and that he still found himself threatening shopkeepers so that hungry children might get a meal. Davenport was the only place where he was truly peaceful – where things never went wrong, except for the small redcoat attack that had been brought upon them by Big Dave’s presence. But even that hadn’t been completely unsettling – Connor and the others had done away with them quickly, just like they had quickly chased away Ellen’s abusive husband. Things ended quickly in Davenport, and Connor found that he liked it that way, even if it meant that there were fewer things for him to do. His restlessness faded away, and he established a routine, occasionally riding to Kanatahséton valley to look at the lands he had failed to protect, hoping to find something akin to closure by visiting. It was, at the end of the day, useless, and was simply something he did to pass the time.

It had been months since he had dropped the tomahawk onto the porch. He was deep into the Davenport hunting region, his bow and arrow at the ready. He remained as still as possible, hoping to see an animal walk by. When a few hours had passed, he had successfully skinned a number of hares – small game, but game nonetheless. He walked by Norris’s mine, heading nowhere in particular, when he heard the cries of a child.

He instantly started to panic.

There were a few things Connor could not tolerate without being bathed in anxiety. These things included crying children and distressed women. Prudence had thought him to be joking when he had told her that finding her in labor in the middle of nowhere had left him terribly anxious. It hadn’t been a joke at all – he had ripped people’s throats out in areas surrounded by gunmen without the slightest worry. But women? Children? No.

He dropped his quarry and quickly headed toward the mine, overcome with worry. He was almost relieved to see that it was only Maria, her hands hovering over her bleeding knee. He let out a long breath and approached her. She jumped, but quickly relaxed upon seeing who it was.

“What happened?” Connor asked, successfully maintaining a nonchalant tone.

Maria sniffed mournfully. “I fell down. I thought Norris would come by eventually, but he must have gone off somewhere with Myriam.”

Connor bent down, taking her in his arms and mumbling something about how children did not belong in mines. Maria was too busy nervously eyeing her bleeding knee to pay attention. The gash was deep, and by the time they had reached the entrance, Connor’s sleeve was already stained with blood.

She sniffled all the way to Dr. White’s cabin. He swiftly removed her from Connor’s arms, which was a relief, given that he had been worried about dropping her or handling her incorrectly. Lyle White made a few noises of disapproval upon hearing the story, and gave Maria a small lecture while he patched her up. Connor stood nearby and remained silent, as was his habit. Once Dr. White had finished, he handed her over to Connor with the order to take her to her mother immediately.

“Tell her where her daughter’s been playing,” he said irritably. “She’ll have a right mind to keep her indoors.”

Maria insisted on walking, though she did grab onto Connor’s bloodied sleeve to keep her balance.

“You won’t tell Mama where I’ve been, right?” she asked hopefully.

“How will you explain your injury, then?” Connor asked.

She paused, and it was clear that she hadn’t thought of that.

“Oh, alright,” she said sulkily. “Maybe Mama will be too distracted by your heroics to care.”

 _Heroics_?

“I did not perform any heroics,” Connor said. “It was Dr. White who –”

Maria snorted. “You carried me a really long way to Dr. White’s.”

Connor could not deny that, so he remained silent until they reached Ellen’s. She was outside, fitting some fine silk around the waist of her mannequin. She waved and smiled, and Connor noticed that she had almost ten needles poking out of her mouth. Almost all of them dropped to the ground once she caught sight of her limping daughter.

“Maria! What’s happened to you?”

“I fell down in the mine,” Maria said quickly. She then followed through on what she had discussed with Connor earlier: “But Connor saved me and walked miles and miles over to Dr. White’s cabin!”

“Oh, Connor, thank you,” Ellen gushed. She turned to her daughter and frowned. “You’re not to go into the mines, Maria. You ought to know better. Now go inside and rest your knee.”

Connor caught sight of the sparkle in Maria’s eyes. So she had been right – his heroics _had_ distracted her mother.

“Thank you so much for carrying her all that way,” Ellen said, reaching out to touch Connor’s arm. He tried to suppress his desire to recoil as much as possible – he was still getting used to the fact that touching was a common occurrence outside of his village. “I don’t know what would have happened to her otherwise.”

“I only did what I had to,” Connor insisted. “It was Dr. White who –”

Ellen snorted. “Dr. White could not have done anything had you not carried her to his cabin.”

She spoke sense, so Connor just looked at her and wondered why she and her daughter insisted on interrupting him when he was trying to explain himself.

Ellen’s eyes rested on his bloody sleeve. She sighed. “And look, Maria’s made a right mess of you. Well, come in, and let’s get you cleaned up.”

“That will not be necessary,” Connor said. He began to wring his hands together, making his discomfort with the proposition clear.

If Ellen noticed this discomfort, then she did a fine job of ignoring it. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve cleaned blood out of clothes more times than I can count – one of the perks of living with a brute that comes home from the pub bloodied after some silly brawl.”

Connor did not understand how that was a perk, but he decided to keep any and all questions to himself. He followed Ellen into her house. As soon as they entered, Maria peeked out from behind the doorframe of the sitting room. She smiled shyly at him while Ellen apologized for the bolts of fabric that had been haphazardly scattered all over the house. Connor assured her that he didn’t mind, and she led him into her kitchen where she pushed him down into a chair and asked for his ‘coat.’ Connor removed his white and blue robes and handed them to her. He felt distinctly uncomfortable without them on – but then again, he had kept them on for so long. When he wasn’t steering the Aquila out onto the sea, he was wrapped up in his robes and running across the rooftops. But now he was sitting in Ellen’s kitchen as she scrubbed away at his robes while occasionally making snarky comments about her husband.

Maria wandered in and stood in front of Connor, regarding him with great interest. She studied him closely before placing a tiny hand on his face. This time, he pulled back properly and she dropped her hand almost instantly.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I’ve never seen a scar so big.”

She was talking about the scar on his left cheek, an unfortunate result of a hunt gone wrong. He recounted the event, and she began to visibly bubble over with excitement.

“Can you teach me how to hunt?” she asked.

Ellen laughed from her washbasin. “There will be none of that in this house, thank you very much.”

“Oh, Mama, please?” Maria said. “Besides, if I’m out learning to hunt with Connor, I’ll have less time to spend in the mines.”

Connor raised his eyebrows at her slyness, and she grinned at him.

“Or you can stay here and help with the sewing,” Ellen countered.

“Myriam is an able hunter,” Connor began. “You may find more comfort in leaving Maria with –”

“No,” Maria said sharply. She looked at her mother with pleading eyes.

Ellen sighed. “Oh, alright. If Connor doesn’t mind.”

“I will make sure she is kept safe,” he promised.

A few days later, as Connor crouched behind Maria and helped her to hold her bow, he briefly wondered if the restlessness he suffered was actually loneliness. The estate was empty, and Connor was always out in the wilderness in order to escape that emptiness. He thought back to his short visit with Ellen, and how he had felt in a house that was obviously properly lived in. Ellen had smiled at him constantly, and had spent ages smoothing out the wrinkles in the sleeve of his robes and, for a moment, he had been pleased with her fussing. He had plenty of friends, but he was still restless. It was a great mystery to him. Perhaps Prudence had the answer – Connor always assumed that she did. He was unable to dwell on the matter much longer, because the silence of the forest was broken by Maria’s cheerful shout as she lifted up the hare she had shot.

“Come see!” she yelled, exploding with happiness and pride.

Connor smiled at her. Since the restlessness was gone, there was no point in worrying further. With Maria always at his door with her bow and arrows, he felt needed – properly needed. There was also Ellen, who trusted in him and not his blade. He was unsure what it was about their companionship that had put an end to his irritable nature, but Connor was never one to question such matters. Instead, he walked over to where Maria was standing and guided her hand as she learned how to skin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen supposed that there were a few good things to have come out of her relationship with Quincent. TW: Mentions of domestic abuse.

“If he ever came knocking, I certainly wouldn’t turn him away,” Ellen said confidentially.

Prudence gasped. “Ellen!”

Ellen began to laugh.

 “People will hear!” Prudence scolded.

“Oh, who cares?”

“Besides,” Prudence said quietly, leaning forward, “do you think he would do something like that?”

“Come over to my cabin in the middle of the night?” Ellen said. “Hardly. He’s far too much of a gentleman, and far too shy.”

Prudence nodded in agreement. “Much, much too shy. I don’t think the poor boy has ever courted a woman – I overheard Norris telling Warren that he had to explain courting to Connor. When Norris expressed interest in Myriam, Connor had no idea that to court meant to woo.”

“Oh, goodness,” Ellen said, spluttering with laughter. “Poor Connor.”

“I’m not surprised he hasn’t settled down yet,” Prudence said. “He’s always in and out of the Homestead, never staying for longer than a few weeks.”

“I wonder what he does out there,” Ellen said, casting her eyes onto the forest. “He always seems so detached when he comes back.”

“But not so detached that he doesn’t make time to take Maria out hunting.”

“If only he were that detached,” Ellen said playfully. “Then I wouldn’t have a pile of dead hares on my porch every other day.”

Both women laughed.

“Soon it’ll be Hunter on the prowl with them, too,” Prudence said, sighing.

“You sound as if you’ve resigned yourself to it already.”

“He has a way with the young ones,” Prudence said. “It is to be expected, given his nature.”

Ellen nodded, and murmured a sound of agreement.

“Still,” Prudence said, eyeing Ellen meaningfully. “It’d do him well to settle down.”

Ellen sat back in her chair and took a sip of her tea. “I suppose.”

“He would be a good husband,” Prudence said. It was clear she had an agenda. “Can you believe he told Dr. White that he was unattached because he didn’t have time to give a woman the attention she deserves?”

Ellen’s cheeks colored slightly. “He’s so very sweet, Prudence. It’s a bit ridiculous.”

“I know,” Prudence said sagely. “He gave us all homes here, did he not? All of us were saved by him, and look at us now.” She gestured at the Homestead. “Everybody is so happy.”

Ellen smiled and put her teacup down. “You can say that again.”

She got up, thanked Prudence for the tea, and made her way back to her cabin.

Ellen walked into her sitting room, catching sight of her young daughter curled up in a chair with a book. She walked over to her and patted her knee gently.

“How’s your knee, love?”

Maria shrugged and turned a page. “It’s been better for ages now, but Dr. White says I should keep the bandage on for a bit longer.”

“I’m just afraid that your hunting might apply a bit too much stress on it.”

Maria shook her head. “I wouldn’t be out hunting if my knee hurt, Mama. Besides, most of it is staying still in the bushes.”

“My daughter staying still,” Ellen said dryly. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Maria put her book down. “I can stay still. Besides, the less I move, the more Connor and I catch.”

Ellen smiled and nodded. “You’re doing a fine job, Maria. I’m sure Connor thinks so, too.”

“I wish Pa had had the time to teach me things,” Maria said sourly. “But it’s not like learning to down the drink in under a second would have been of much use to me.”

“Maria!”

“You know it’s true,” Maria said, returning to her book.

Ellen sighed and went upstairs, sitting down at her sewing table and placing her head in her hands. What Maria had said certainly was true, and she herself wished she had left Quincent a long time ago. Instead, she had put it off to the last minute, putting her daughter in danger. That is, until Maria had rushed out of the house and had come back with a man strong enough to beat some regret into Quincent. Ellen could very clearly remember telling Connor that she had no intention of leaving her business. If he hadn’t pressed her further the way he had, she probably would have stayed, too. She felt like such a fool. The Homestead brought them happiness and peace, and yet she had resisted coming. She knew that if Connor hadn’t been nearby, she probably would have ended the night with a black eye and a daughter patterned with bruises.

Usually, Ellen tried not to blame herself for marrying Quincent. She had been very, very young and very, very foolish. So foolish, in fact, that she let him back into their house every time he beat her. She had spent most of her young life believing that that was what women had to deal with. That is, until she grew up and realized just how stupid she’d been. She was still young, but she had seen and felt a great deal, and wasn’t unwilling to let people know that. The only good thing that had come out of it all was Maria, bless her.

And Connor, she supposed.

Ellen groaned and ran her fingers through her hair. She and Prudence had been discussing men earlier, and while most of her words had been said in jest, a tiny part of her knew that she hadn’t exactly been spinning tales. There _was_ something very endearing about Connor – he was almost childlike in his disposition. _Almost_ childlike, because she knew that underneath his cool demeanor was someone who possessed an inhuman amount of tenacity and strength. His gentle nature didn’t leave him weak. Just a few months ago, he had held Quincent up by the collar of his shirt and, in front of most of the settlement, had made his intention very, very clear.

“Believe me when I tell you: if I ever see you on this land again, _I will end you_.”

Quincent had scrambled away quite quickly after that, and Ellen had seen the look of pure fear on his face. She had felt a thrill at being protected, strong and independent as she was. Now, she and Connor exchanged the occasional amused glance over Maria’s head and she always found herself watching him as he taught her daughter how to properly wield a blade. Prudence hadn’t been exaggerating when she had said that Connor had a way with the younger settlers – he was endlessly patient with Maria, and Ellen could tell that she loved him for it. If there was one thing Maria didn’t need, it was somebody snapping at her or telling her she wasn’t good enough. Connor understood that. He had seen enough to understand that.

Now Ellen heard voices downstairs, and as she peeked over the bannisters, she saw her daughter speaking to Connor in the doorway. He handed Maria a beautiful leather quiver, and she took it in her hands, trembling with excitement. Ellen hadn’t known how excitable her daughter could be until Connor had come into the picture.

“Is it for me?” Maria gasped.

Connor nodded. From where she was standing, Ellen could tell that he wasn’t at his most comfortable. She felt a warmth in her chest as she watched him awkwardly tell her daughter that he had had it crafted from the spoils of one of his hunts. Maria hopped up and down happily and enveloped him in a tiny hug. Ellen didn’t miss the look of shock on his face, nor did she miss the embarrassment that came over him when he saw her peering at them over the bannister. He gave her something of a crooked smile, his cheeks coloring slightly. Maria stepped back, grabbed his hand and began to drag him away. Connor gave Ellen a nod before leaving, and Maria slammed the door shut behind them.

Yes, Maria had been the best thing to come out of Ellen’s relationship with Quincent. But Connor…Connor was definitely a close second.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria isn't sure what to do when you like a boy - but maybe Connor has the answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a silly little idea that popped into my head! I've aged down Maria considerably for this, because Connor dealing with little people is the cutest ever.

Maria crouched down low, her bow and arrow at the ready, her eyes concentrated on a hare that was unknowingly snacking on her bait. She knew Connor was nearby – she kept asking to hunt alone, but he always seemed to be in her vicinity. When confronted, he usually claimed to be hunting his own prey.

She knew he tagged along just to keep an eye on her, and it annoyed her very much. She tried to focus all the same – maybe if he saw that she was improving, he would trust her out in the woods on her own.

Probably not.

Maria took aim and let go, while simultaneously losing her balance. There was a deafening crunch of leaves, and the hare bolted off into the trees. Maria grumbled, standing up and brushing herself off. She angrily marched over to where her arrow lay. By the time she got there, Connor was already leaning against a tree with her arrow in his hand.

He handed it to her, no doubt thinking that he was being helpful.

Maria grabbed it from him, knowing that it would be useless to tell him off for being there in the first place.

Connor saw the sour expression on her face. “You will get better with practice.”

Maria huffed. “I’m usually better than that. I just wasn’t focused enough, I guess.”

“Is there something on your mind?”

Maria tensed. Her mother asked her the same question on an almost daily basis now. Maria knew what was on her mind – she just didn’t fancy sharing it with her mother. Or Connor, of all people. She had tried to make a quick visit to Prudence’s, but by the time she had gotten there, she’d decided against saying anything at all.

She was getting close to her breaking point, though, so maybe Connor was her best bet.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

He nodded. She began to walk toward her cabin, gesturing for him to join her. He began to follow after her, only stopping dead in his tracks once she had gotten her problem off of her chest.

“What do you do when you like somebody? Like _really_ like them?”

Connor opened his mouth, then closed it.

This wasn’t happening.

“I believe this is a conversation best directed toward your mother,” he choked out.

Maria shook her head. “No! She’d just make fun of me for it. I tried to talk to Prudence, but I got too shy!”

“Prudence,” Connor repeated. He visibly relaxed. “Prudence will have the answers you are looking for.”

After all, Prudence had known that women liked flowers. Of course, Myriam hadn't liked them at all, but that wasn't the point. Prudence had answers about these sorts of things.

They took a sharp turn, and made for Prudence’s cabin. As they approached the fields, Maria came to a stop.

“I’m still too shy to ask,” she admitted.

Connor hesitated. “I will ask for you, then.”

Maria brightened considerably. As luck would have it, they found Prudence outside, tending to her plants.

She smiled at them brightly. Warren was sitting on the porch with his son in his lap.

“Maria has a question she would like to ask you,” Connor began.

“Does she now?” Prudence asked. She looked at Maria expectantly.

“She is seeking your advice on how to –” he paused, trying to remember how Maria had worded it. “On what to do if you – if she – likes somebody.”

Prudence took a deep breath. The last time she had discussed the subject had been when Connor had nervously asked her what women liked to receive as gifts. She made every attempt possible to contain her laughter. Warren did no such thing – his chuckles echoed around their little porch, and Hunter joined him. Maria blushed furiously. Prudence could have sworn that Connor was almost as pink.

Prudence bent down and looked at Maria. “Why don’t you and I go make some tea, hmm? Something tells me we will have more to talk about if we are alone.”

Maria nodded shyly, and Prudence began to walk toward her cabin. Before following, Maria turned to Connor and whispered, “Thank you!”

Connor nodded, hoping with every bone in his body that he would never, ever have to go on an excursion like this one ever again. Prudence and Maria walked inside, closing the door behind them.

“It is funny, isn’t it,” Warren called from the porch. “They all come to you with their heavy hearts. First Norris, and now the child.”

Connor could see no humor in it, so he shook his head and walked away, with Warren’s laughter following him to the gate.


End file.
